Confessions of a Mutinied Captain
by spikeismyvampirelover
Summary: Post AWE, Jack finds a desponent Barbossa in a Tortugan Bar and they have a little manly heart to heart. May be a bit of OOCness, but its meant to be a comedy piece.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Jack Sparrow, Hector Barbossa or anybody in Pirates of the Caribbean. I had a bid in on Jack the Monkey, but I haven't heard back from the Mouse - lol. All the credit goes to Disney Inc, except for plot - that's all me!**

**A/N: I'd like to dedicate this oneshot to my Dad, as he gave me the idea in the first place. Just a funny little thought that came into my head and sprung into life in my computer. **

**Beta: The lovely and talented, EvilKath!**

**ooo**

Dark, shoddy, smelly and dank, the tavern would be considered an eye-sore in any port but Tortuga. The inn-keeper wiped glasses and shelves with a filthy towel, glaring at the un-paying customers. Pleasurable company lined the room, fanning themselves, spilling over their corsets and necklines, connivingand giggling at any man who met their lustful gazes. The dull thud of mugs hitting the wooden tables littering the tavern could be heard over the muffled music of the quartet in the courtyard. Strumpets, disloyal wives and husbands, thieves, pirates, militants, merchants – this bar served them all.

A man walked confidently into the tavern. He had a blood red bandana stretched across his forehead, probably in an attempt to control his great mane of hair as well as signify his Captaincy of a vessel. He swaggered inside, causing a small commotion behind him as all the strumpets rushed forward to gain his attentions. "Rum." he said to the inn-keeper once he reached the bar, slapping a piece of eight onto the bar top and turning to inspect his fellow drinkers. A rumpled heap lay to his right, hardly interesting company as it was shaking as snores wracked its body during its alcohol-driven slumber. To his left was a weeping man, clutching a letter and drinking shots of port. But a bit further on, ah, there was an interesting sight. A mug of seemingly unattended rum mixed with apple cider - he could smell it. Only one man he'd ever met was so obsessed with apples he even tampered with rum to fuel his pomaceous desires. What looked to be a huddle of cloth, raised his head from the bar and drank from the cup.

"Hector!" the man cried. "Its been too long, mate!"

Hector Barbossa spat out his apple rum, an event which was only triggered by the appearance of the one man he hated above all others, and there was a considerable list, _Jack Sparrow_. "Jack." He grunted, distrust, or possibly disgust, showing in his yellowed blue eyes.

"What be you doin in this fine port, Hector."

"Jack..Jack... " He shook his head. "I don't think 'twould be best for your well-bein' if ye continue to call me Hector."

"Whatever you say, Hector." Jack smirked, putting extra emphasis on his mutinous first mate's name. "I just stopped by to thank you, mate. For those charts from Sao Feng. Found the Aqua de Vida and all, so you can threaten me as much as you want mate. But it won't do you no good." He sat down beside the now decidedly seething pirate and propped his feet up on the bar. "Wot with my newfound _immortality._"

Barbossa was in no mood to deal with Jack's frivolity. A lot of water had flowed under the bridge since they'd last met and a lot had changed. Most of these changes, however, seemed to have been in favor of that conniving Jack Sparrow than to Barbossa himself. His crew had been increasingly more rebellious lately and, to be frank, he was getting on in his years.

"Smirk all ye want Jack, I've still got the _Pearl_." Barbossa watched greedily as Jack's smirk slid off his face faster than Kraken slop.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that one, mate. Where's all your crew, I wonder?" Jack had pulled his trump card, and Barbossa felt a stone settle into his nethers as he realized all his crew was missing from the bar. He was sure he'd seen them follow him...

"Yep." Jack exhaled, picking at the dirt and other unidentifiable things under his fingernails. "Just when we docked at port, what should we see but the _Pearl_ herself, in all her piratey glory. 'Well', I says to meself, ' I wonder if the crew of the_ Pearl_ are exactly pleased about their expeditions. Turns out the weren't, mate."

A bulbous vein started to throb in Barbossa's cheek. "You led a mutiny against me!" he sputtered.

"Actually my hands are reletively clean of this, in reality too." He held up the hand he'd been picking away at, which Barbossa promptly shoved away.

"What do ye mean? I know ye, Jack. Ye're out for revenge."

"Well, I didn't even plant the idea in their minds, just added kindling to the fire, savvy? 'Fraid you're wivout a crew now, mate."

Barbossa seemed torn on whether to shout at Jack, throttle him or have a temper tantrum right in the middle of the bar, effectively making or breaking his reputation.

In the end, he chose none of these options, and began to cough, sniff and wipe his eyes, muttering about dust and flea allergies.

" People just don't like me, Jack. That's me problem." He pulled a flaky handkerchife out of his waistcoat pocket and blew his nose. "Darn allergies." he muttered once again. He continued to nurse his cup of rum, while Jack continued to feel uncomfortable at Hector's sudden display of emotion.

Jack patted Barbossa awkwardly on the back, sneaking glances around the pub to make sure none of the other customers could see his actions, or to assure they were too drunk to remember them anyway.

"I'm a terrible Captain ––" croaked Barbossa.

"Nonsense. Nonsense!" Jack signaled to the barkeep – "Another rum - strong." he mouthed.

"Nonsense." Jack repeated. "I'm sure you're a great Captain." At Barbossa's snort, he continued.

"You just need to work on your people skills. I'm sure people would be more receptive if you were just a bit nicer."

"You think?" he asked thickly.

"Aye."

"Well, thank ye, Jack."

"Nicely done, mate. You're welcome. Wait, you're not talking to the monkey are ye? 'Cause he voted against ye back on the ship."

"Jackie? Daddy's little boy voted against me in the mutiny?" he said, his voice rising and his visage becoming red once more.

"Oh, would you look at the time, gotta run, mate! _Pearl_'s waitin' for me" He sped out of the tavern, effects and arms swinging wildly. "Keep up the work with those people skills" He called back over his shoulder.

"Curse you, Jack Sparrow."

**ooo**

**A/N: As always, let me know what you think. Apple-flavored rum cake to all reviewers! **


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